


Lemon

by an_aphorism



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Drug Use, Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Bottom Shiro, Breeding Kink, Feral Behavior, Gay Disaster Shiro (Voltron), Getting Together, M/M, Male Lactation, Marathon Sex, Milking, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Sexual Tension, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23469526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_aphorism/pseuds/an_aphorism
Summary: “Don’t ask, but I ate some petals of this flower,” Shiro turns the screen to show the flowers, “and I think I’ve been poisoned.”“You WHAT?!”Or: Disaster Gay eats an alien plant that turns out to be an aphrodisiac that makes him lactate. Keith discovers a new kink.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 599





	Lemon

**Author's Note:**

> Fic requested by @hemsbutt on twitter!

Hunk had said it was the yellow flower on Kerr’n, but when Shiro puts the petals on his tongue he doesn’t taste lemon meringue. He sighs looking at the field of flowers. Shiro had been really hopeful when Hunk had told him, he had thought maybe bringing something that tasted like Keith’s favorite dessert back to the ship would really turn the tides on this long mission of theirs.

He chewed the petals idly, hoping maybe that would release the flavor.

No luck.

Then instead of spit, Shiro’s natural reaction was just to swallow. It tasted like plant matter, not lemon. Still, Shiro snapped a photo of them and then picked a handful. If they weren’t tasty, maybe they could just be pretty. Maybe Keith would like them anyway.

Shiro headed back toward his pod, sending a follow up note to Keith to tell him he’d finished looking over this quadrant and would be heading back. The crystals that Pidge needed were nowhere to be found, but hopefully soon one of them would have luck. They’d been out for four days now, and it was beginning to get tedious.

Not the company, but everything else. And if Shiro were more honest with himself, the company was… difficult in another way.

Mainly it was hard to see Keith day in and day out in such a small space without any other distraction and _not_ spill his heart. He’d been thinking on it a lot since the end of the war, but there never seemed a right time, and Shiro wasn’t sure it would even be welcome. It had been kind of weird between them since the clones. Since, _I love you._

The words haunted Shiro, he’d not had an opportunity to do anything with them, and now it had been so long it would be weird to just bring it up.

Out here all alone with this stupid finding mission left a lot of time to think though. A lot of time to fixate on Keith in close quarters, soft and rumbled from bed at the breakfast table, or Keith leaning over the console and focused on piloting. A lot of time to fixate on Keith.

Shiro picked a few more flowers and blew out a hard, long breath. Maybe the flowers were a bad idea.

Still, he couldn’t drop them, didn’t want to waste them after he’d already picked them.

It was just too bad they didn’t taste of meringue though…

##

Keith grins when he sees the bouquet at dinner. “Where’d you get those?”

“The last planet had a field of them. Thought we could do with something pretty in here.”

“Oh don’t I qualify?” Keith grins, pasta halfway to his mouth. Shiro almost chokes.

This makes Keith laugh. “I’m just teasing,” He forks the pasta in, talking with his mouth full, “They are pretty, thanks.”

Shiro tries very, very hard not to preen about that, but he isn’t sure if he succeeds. “How much longer do you think this will take?”

Keith shrugs, shoveling in more of dinner, “Hopefully not too much longer, we’ve already cleared a lot of territories.”

“Yeah,” Shiro attends his own dinner but more slowly, his appetite this evening is not quite up to snuff. For the most part he sneaks glances at Keith who does, in between clearing his plate and getting seconds, keeps looking up to check out the flowers.

Shiro feels stupidly proud of them, even if they didn’t work out quite as expected. At least they’ve brought Keith joy in some small way.

When Shiro fails to finish dinner, he pushes his leftovers over to Keith who inhales them as well. Keith’s always had a Galra appetite even before anyone knew what that was, and Shiro’s always happy to provide.

##

That night Shiro’s stomach goes from moderately displeased to downright _angry._ He wakes to a hot burning sensation in his belly, and a deep sort of ache. He sits up at once, grabbing at his stomach and heading for the bathroom.

But he’s not nauseous or… anything else. There’s just a sitting pain. He rakes his sleep-fogged brain to try and remember what he could have eaten. Was it dinner? The pasta didn’t have anything different in it, it’s the same stock they’ve been having for days. He didn’t eat anything else weird, only drank water.

Another burst of heat has Shiro up and stumbling out of his room. They’re small rooms just enough for a bed and bathroom, and Shiro tries to be quiet on his way past Keith’s door beside his. There’s painkillers in the kitchen, and maybe that can help.

It’s not like this ship has a healing pod or proper diagnostic equipment, they weren’t supposed to be engaging with anything dangerous. In the kitchen Shiro clicks on the small light and opens one of the drawers that holds their very basic emergency supplies and—

Then his eyes catch on the flowers. The very yellow flowers in their makeshift vase. The flowers that Shiro put _in his mouth_.

Like a fucking idiot.

Poison, that’s all he can think. They’re poisonous and now—

All thoughts of being silent dissolve immediately. Shiro hurries back to his room and grabs the data pad, dialing up Pidge.

He doesn’t know what the time exchange is, but she answers almost immediately, “Show me my crystals!” She’s grinning.

He must indeed look grim because her expression falls.

“Shiro what’s wrong?”

“I need a diagnostic if you can,” Shiro says, walking back to the kitchen. He hears a muffled sound from Keith’s room. “Don’t ask, but I ate some petals of this flower,” he turns the screen to show the flowers, “and I think I’ve been poisoned.”

“You WHAT?!”

“Pidge not now—“

“Oh, I think now is EXACTLY the time, Shiro what the fuc—“

“What’s going on?” This comes from Keith, still in his pajamas but looking wide-eyed.

“Shiro ATE some foreign plant and— fuck!” Pidge shouts through the data pad. “What planet? And get me closer, I need a better picture.”

All of a sudden Keith is beside him, taking the data pad and doing as she asked even as Shiro himself is a little frozen.

“Shiro did you really eat the flower?” He looks less mad than Pidge, more wholly concerned. Shiro feels like the world’s biggest, dumbest asshole.

“I didn’t— I thought it was a different flower. I— I’m sorry!”

“Okay,” Keith nods, but he’s gone all business, “And which planet were these from?”

“The last one,” Shiro says. Keith pulls up his tracking on the data pad and forwards it to Pidge.

“Symptoms?” Pidge says. There’s the sound of rapid clacking and then in the background she hisses at someone, “Get Allura and Coran up, also Kolivan. Anyone who could have plant matter knowledge. I’m forwarding to Ryner now.”

“Symptoms?” Keith says, much kinder when Shiro stalls to answer.

“Uh, stomach pain, heat, um, pressure?”

“Can you vomit? Bowel movement?”

Shiro shakes his head. He doubts even if he threw up there would be anything left.

“Did you consume it when you were on planet?” Keith asks.

“Yeah.”

“That’s a long time ago, check the timestamp Pidge.”

There’s another curse. “Okay, sit tight. How’s he looking Keith?”

“Okay, maybe sweating,” Keith reaches out and puts a hand to Shiro’s forehead. Then he goes to the drawer and gets out a thermometer and blood pressure measure. Shiro sits and takes both without fuss, letting Keith read off the numbers. Both are elevated, but not in a dangerous way.

They go back and forth like that a while. Pidge gives him a full battery of tests which Keith enacts, and while the pain continues, there’s no more escalation. There are no other signs that Shiro’s body is going through anything worse than some bad food.

Over an hour later Pidge confesses, “We don’t have a positive ID, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of Ryner. Allura and Coran don’t think they’re deadly-dangerous, but you guys should head back here so we can properly diagnose. Keith watch him and update me on changes in symptoms, okay?”

When they hang up, the anxiety stays.

“Stars, Shiro!” Keith says collapsing into the seat beside him.

“Sorry,” Shiro says, and then because he feels so foolish, he explains the entire thing.

When he finishes Keith snorts and drags a hand over his face, “Wow it’s not funny but what the hell Shiro!”

“I know, I know!”

“Fuck,” He leans against Shiro. “How’re you feeling?”

All things considered, Shiro thinks the pain is decreasing now. The heat is still there, but now it’s spread more like a fever. “Still hurts but better? Still hot.”

Keith’s hand reaches up and touches Shiro’s forehead. “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” Shiro says again.

Keith bumps his shoulder into him, “I thought you weren’t going to scare me like this anymore Shirogane.”

“Me too.”

They sit there a while after that, and then eventually Shiro’s lack of symptoms and Pidge’s lack of updates gets boring. When Shiro suggests they go back to sleep, Keith invites himself into Shiro’s bed because, _I’m not letting you out of my sight, just in case._

Which is how Shiro ends up sharing the very small cot with Keith.

Keith props himself up against the headboard, vowing to stay up and hearing no argument against it. Eventually the exhaustion and dull pain get Shiro to give up protesting, and he curls up facing Keith and lets himself go back to sleep.

##

In the morning Shiro feels fine. Weirdly fine. When he cracks his eyes open it’s with the sense of disappointment that he made such a fuss and now…

He feels tired maybe, but that’s to be expected with the night they had. The fever and cramps are gone. Shiro tilts his head to find Keith still propped up against the headboard but now a little slumped and asleep. Shiro reaches up to shake his arm, just looking at Keith makes his neck hurt.

“Keith.”

Keith startles awake, but then settles when his eyes fall on Shiro. “Oh! Fuck I fell asleep, are you okay?!”

“Fine, I’m fine. I feel normal,” he pushes up as Keith fusses to touch his forehead for fever. “I think whatever it was passed.”

The hand drops and so does Keith’s shoulders. There’s a breath of relief, “Good.”

They shuffle out of bed then and go their separate ways, meeting once more for breakfast. During breakfast they call Pidge and give the update. She makes them go through temperature and blood pressure and general physical wellness tests, but Shiro passes them all perfectly.

“I don’t think we should turn back,” Shiro says before the call ends, “I’m stupid, but I think I’m fine health-wise. I don’t want to blow the whole mission, we’re so close to finding the crystals.”

He watches Pidge and Keith share a look of silent communication.

“Shiro—“ Keith starts.

“No, come on, don’t let my dumb decision ruin this, we’ve already put in so much work. I promise I’m fine, and the second I’m not I’ll tell you.”

Keith stares at him hard then, and Pidge voices her own doubts.

In the end though Shiro is an adult, so they let him make the call for himself even though both of them look displeased by the decision.

“The _second_ you don’t feel well,” Keith says, like a threat.

“I will,” Shiro says.

##

But Shiro _is_ fine. He is. Maybe he’s tired the rest of the day, sort of achy, but he’s not sick. Whatever it was has passed through him.

They fly to the next quadrant, but Keith makes them go out together for planet-side searching. This is unnecessary, but Shiro doesn’t fight it since it’s the least he can offer for not being immediately taken back home. It does, however, slow the work considerably. Shiro tries not to take that personally, that the mission is likely to drag on even longer because Keith can’t trust him to not be dumb and eat an alien plant.

That night in his room when Shiro pulls off his shirt his muscles ache. He touches his shoulders and then down to his chest. His pectorals ache as though he’s been through a hard workout. They weren’t out that long, but maybe all the stress has meant he’s been tensing and not realizing it.

He shrugs it off and falls into bed. The cot is spacious without Keith.

Shiro sighs and closes his eyes.

The next morning he wakes feeling… strange. There’s a pressure that has him immediately up and heading to the bathroom.

He blinks awake in the bathroom, washing his hands after peeing, and then splashing some water on his face. He feels groggy, his brain foggy.

Back in the room thought the weird pressure hasn’t gone. Shiro’s hand touches his lower abdomen, but the pressure isn’t coming from his bladder. His hand slides up and he finds his chest aches. It’s worse than the night before. Still shirtless it’s easy to see his chest is as it’s always been, there’s nothing visually wrong, not even bruising. He must have pulled something. Shiro palpates around, trying to find a center of sensitivity, but just the whole area aches. Weird.

He puts it out of mind when he hears the sounds of Keith getting up. They have more pressing things to deal with.

##

It gets worse over the course of the day. Shiro tries not to do any lifting to aggravate the pulled muscles, but by the time he’s back on ship and stripping down for a shower, he _aches._ It aches so much in fact that when Shiro pulls his shirt up over his head there’s a measurable level of relief.

When Shiro looks this time his nipples are reddened, a little irritated looking. When he touches them there’s a weird mix of pain and pleasure that jolts down his body.

“Fuck,” he hisses. He touches again, this time more gently, and it’s like a misfiring nerve. Still the feeling that rolls through him is hot, sharp with a side of pleasure.

A few years ago Shiro got a little too into a solo session with himself while plucking at one of his nipples, and the next day his nipple was so swollen and painful and—

A lot like this now. He didn’t love that the day after, and he likes this less.

Still, the shower he takes then starts with Shiro avoiding the spray on his chest, and somehow ends with his fist wrapped around his hardening cock as he lets the water hit his peaked nipples. It’s painful, but also there’s that strange pleasure he can’t seem to fight. It feels too, too good to stroke himself, so he does, panting in the hot air.

It’s just as he’s almost there that his free hand reaches up and tweaks a nipple.

The spike of pleasure is so intense then his knees almost buckle. It’s all Shiro can to do grab at the sleek showers walls, stroking himself fast and hard as he comes and comes. It’s a heavy vibrato of pleasure, made _more_ from how the water still hits his chest.

And then the orgasm is fading and Shiro does slide carefully down to the bottom of the tub, breathing hard.

_What the fuck was that?!_

In bed after Shiro has to sleep with the sheets down to his waist because of the sensitivity. Even like that he can still feel nearly every change in air against his nipples. He’s so, so sensitive and he doesn’t know why.

Or maybe he has an inkling of an idea—

But he doesn’t want to think about it. Can’t.

Shiro shuts his eyes and goes to sleep.

##

In the morning Shiro’s too sensitive to put on a shirt. Just the attempt has his gasping, his cock already half hard. That strange pressure is ever-present, and it remains even as he takes another hand to himself, stroking his cock to a quick early morning orgasm.

When he gets out of the shower it’s time for breakfast, and Shiro can hear Keith moving around. He knows immediately that he doesn’t have much time. He’s going to have to either put on a shirt and go out there, or explain to Keith why he can’t.

To test Shiro touches a careful thumb to one of his nipples and feels a shiver run through him. He’s just come but his cock gives a miraculous jerk of interest.

 _Fuck_.

Shiro waffles. All he can think about is Keith’s sharp look when he said, _the second you don’t feel well_. It’s possible this is… something from the flower, and Shiro hasn’t told Keith about it yet. He is, in fact, purposefully dragging his feet on telling.

But in Shiro’s defense this problem has not, so far, endangered his health. So far it’s only really weird, and if he had to tell Keith it would become horrendously embarrassing. And how do you even tell the man you’re in love with that your nipples have become so sensitive that just a mere touch is almost enough to make you come?

It’s wildly, stupidly inappropriate. 

Shiro finds some bandages in the bathroom cabinet and applies them quickly, biting down on sounds of pleasure. He douses his face after in ice cold water, and then pulls a shirt on.

The day is a challenge. He feels so sensitive, it’s a low humming pulse in his body the whole day. The feeling of pressure increases, and despite the easy climate of the planet they’re searching, Shiro becomes increasingly snappish due to frustration. Eventually Keith calls it.

“Shiro is everything okay with you?” Keith catches his arm when they get back to the ship before Shiro can shoot directly to his room.

There’s a driving need in the bottom of Shiro’s belly to get his shirt and bandages off, so much so he can barely focus on Keith’s question. “What? Fine.” He pulls away, his beating heart driving spikes of pain and pleasure through him that only grow bigger the longer he’s not taking care of them.

Keith says something as Shiro retreats, but then Shiro has his door closed and he’s stripping, undoing the bandages and falling into his cot. His shirt he stuffs in his mouth to silence the moans that want to climb out of his mouth as he wraps a hand around his cock. He’s _throbbing_ , frenzied by all the repressed need.

When he pinches one of the swollen buds, his whole body arches, hot and tight and so fucking good and—

“Shiro?”

His hand doesn’t stop moving on his cock. Shiro’s whole body is out of control, and even as he recognizes Keith’s voice and the sound of his door being opened, he can’t stop it. He whines high and lost into the fabric, his cock jerking and coming, the orgasm toppling him. He comes across his chest in vicious, gorgeous pulses.

“Fuck—I didn’t— sorry!” Comes Keith’s voice and then the door closing again.

Shiro’s lungs heave, and he pulls the shirt away to breathe. His head is obliterated, foggy by the weight of the orgasm. Fuck.

 _Fuck_.

Keith.

He opens his eyes to look down at the sight he makes. He’s half undressed, his chest and stomach covered in come. His nipples are swollen and peaked still, and they look obscene where he’s come on them.

 _Fuck_.

##

Shiro can’t face Keith for dinner, and Keith doesn’t try to breach the gap either. Instead Shiro takes a shower and then listens to Keith move around the ship and then retire to bed. He feels humiliated by his own lack of self-control. Clearly Keith was coming to see if he was okay and Shiro was just… doing _that_.

Fucking hell he’s a mess.

Shiro goes to bed that night hoping the morning will bring some sort of relief to this embarrassing situation. Maybe they can just have breakfast like nothing ever happened. Shiro closes his eyes and tries to believe that.

The reality is much different. Shiro wakes having sweat through his night shirt with his cock is aching to be touched. Although he just showered, Shiro takes it to the shower this time to relive himself. After he puts on a fresh shirt and bandages and goes to breakfast.

Breakfast is awkward, to put it simply. Keith doesn’t even look at him, they barely talk other than the details on the planet they’re checking today. But the end Shiro’s chest is damp from sweat. He considers going back to the room and changing again, but surely a second shirt in an hour is too much.

The day is worse in every way than the one before. By the time Keith gets them planet-side Shiro can hardly focus. His nipples feel raw, and he’s pretty sure he’s hard in his flight suit. He can’t imagine how he’s going to get up and do this.

On top of all that, he’s sweating, he can feel it on his chest through all the layers.

“Shiro?” Keith’s looking at him for the first time and his expression is troubled. Shiro has no idea what his own face is doing, but surely he must look at least flushed with the amount of arousal thrumming through his veins.

Shiro tries to get up, but he feels a little faint, and falls back into his seat. He’s hot and the pressure he’s been feeling for days now is oppressive. The wetness inside his suit is disgusting. “Keith I don’t think—“

Before he can even figure out what to say, Keith is by his side, pulling off the helmet and putting a hand to his forehead.

“I knew it, I knew it wasn’t just _all good now._ ” Keith says this matter-of-fact, but he doesn’t look mad, he looks concerned. Shiro tugs vaguely at the rest of the suit, and Keith catches on quickly, reaching behind him to undo the zipper. “What’s wrong? What’re the symptoms? Here let me call Pidge—“

Shiro catches his wrist before he can reach for the datapad. “Wait!”

When Keith turns back, Shiro’s words stumble. “Um, it’s embarrassing. I don’t think I’m in danger. Um. Just don’t call her right now.”

“Shiro I have to—“

“Please! Trust me, I can’t, just you is bad enough.”

That gets Keith’s attention. “Okay. Okay. What’s wrong?” He helps Shiro get off the flight suit, and it’s such a relief to get air on his drenched shirt.

“Um. Well what you walked in on yesterday. It’s been… like that. A lot.”

Keith’s own embarrassment now is buried behind his need to address the problem, so he just nods. “Shiro you’re soaked!”

Before Shiro can warn him, the shirt is pulled up and off. Keith’s brows go up at the bandaging wrapped around Shiro’s chest.

“That’s the other thing, my chest is… sensitive. I’ve been wrapping because just wearing a shirt was distracting.”

“Can I...?”

Shiro raises his arms and Keith reaches around to unwind the bandage that is also soaked. Shiro doesn’t look, can’t. He closes his eyes but can hear Keith’s soft intake of breath as the bandage comes away.

“I think the flower was maybe some kind of aphrodisiac,” Shiro mumbles.

Keith gives a strange breathy laugh, and then there’s a touch on Shiro’s chest. “Shiro you’re—“

Whatever he’s going to say, Shiro misses because then Keith touches one of his nipples, and he nearly screams. His whole body jerks with the intensity of the pleasure, his cock is instantly hard in his pants. “Fu-ck, fuck,” He arches for more subconsciously, his mind awash in the intensity, in the need for more.

Keith curses, and then there’s a pinch of his nipple between clever fingers and—

Shiro comes in his pants.

He has no control over it. It happens almost automatically, the feeling ripping though him. His hands dig into whatever parts of Keith he can reach, rutting against his jeans helplessly as he moans and moans.

“Shiro,” Keith’s voice is thick, “did you just…?”

Shiro opens his eyes when the orgasm has rolled past and left him with words to give. “Mmm?”

Keith’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are wide, looking down at Shiro’s pants that are now showing definite signs of what’s just happened.

Shiro looks at his chest then and sees… wetness.

“What?” He unclenches one of his hands from Keith’s shirt and takes it to his nipple, to the milky looking liquid beading from the tip.

“You’re, um. Wet,” Keith says.

“Oh.”

“Did you not know?”

Shiro shakes his head. “No that’s… new.” He pinches at the nipple then, riding the pleasure that spikes. More liquid comes out, dripping down his chest. Behind that is the smallest sense of relief. A relief of pressure.

“Oh,” he says again.

“Do you need…?” Keith says when Shiro squeezes his own nipple again.

“Yeah,” Shiro says a little mesmerized by just how relieving it is. “Yeah, there’s been pressure and I… I didn’t know.” The wet shirts and bandages make a lot of sense now. “Fuck, this is too weird isn’t it?”

He looks up at Keith whose eyes are dark, mouth a little agape. Keith licks his lips in a way that is… inappropriate. Too attractive.

“Weird, uh… I guess.” Keith doesn’t sound at all certain of that, he doesn’t even sound like he knows what he’s saying. His eyes are stuck on the wet mess dripping from Shiro’s tits.

The mood is shifting, away from concern and toward something much more dangerous. Shiro swallows hard, feeling his own arousal spike once more. “I think you should… fly us back.”

Keith blinks and blinks and then tears his gaze up to Shiro’s face.

Shiro prays that he’s reading this right, that the drug in his system isn’t making him completely brainless. “In a bed, I think, would be more comfortable.”

They hold eye contact for a long, smoldering moment. Shiro doesn’t even think either of them breathe. Keith looks like he’s judging the situation, but if he’s even feeling a fraction of this tension, they’re both compromised already.

“Yours or mine?” Keith finally asks.

Shiro understands the precipice of that question, its one last out if he doesn’t want this.

“Yours,” he says, he’s never been so certain of anything.

Keith flies them back to their ship in record time.

##

They stumble off the transport ship, Keith is practically dragging Shiro toward the rooms which is just as well because Shiro can barely focus. Once he stopped touching himself the arousal had once again begun to build. It had taken the rest of his self-control just to wait the ride back.

“Are you sure?” Keith says. He’s worked up, Shiro can track all that in the stiffness of his body, the too-fast way he’s breathing. There’s a possessive hand has wrapped around Shiro’s still bare torso.

Shiro turns to him at the doorway, his face as serious as he can make it in this moment. “I’m sure.”

Then he’s being bullied against the doorframe and Keith is dragging his face down for a kiss.

It’s explosive, too lewd and hot for a first kiss, but Shiro can’t find it in him to care now. They can do soft later when he doesn’t feel like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin at how Keith’s stiff uniform fabric rubs against his chest.

He makes a wanton sound into Keith’s mouth and the man swallows it down, hand curling tight around Shiro’s neck. Shiro’s lost completely, he kisses back with everything he has.

Then suddenly they’re near the cot, and Keith is pushing him down, following him onto the bed with another one of those blistering kisses.

“Keith—!” The shirt fabric rubs hard and Shiro _needs_.

“Yeah,” Keith kisses him again and again, little pecks like he’s trying to stop but can’t. “Gonna… take care of you.”

There’s slender fingers at his pants, and a moment later the pinching confinement is stripped away. Keith pulls off of him to take Shiro’s pants off, and when Shiro reaches for his own boxers, Keith takes the opportunity to strip him.

Shiro looks at all that revealed skin in awe. He’s fucking gorgeous, more so than all the locker room glances Shiro has gotten. This is Keith moony-eyed and smirking down at him. This is Keith looking like he’s about to _consume_ Shiro.

Keith climbs back on the bed, straddling Shiro easily, and Shiro feels a sudden shyness. He’s sticky in both come and… whatever his chest is leaking. He knows he probably looks a sight spread out like this, and it’s almost embarrassing to be this debauched before they’ve really done anything.

“Fuck you look good,” Keith says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith bends to drop another kiss on his mouth. “Should I?” He pulls back looking meaningfully down.

Shiro knows he means what they almost started in the other ship. Keith had seemed very interested then in _relieving the pressure_ , and he looks more eager now. Shiro doesn’t know what to make of that. He nods though because the pressure is almost a pain now.

Keith’s hands slide down to cup Shiro’s pecs, squeezing them for a moment. The pleasure at that is less intense than when his nipples were touched, but still Shiro feels a very nice relief at it. When he looks down he can see his nipples are beading once again.

“You’re full aren’t you?” Keith’s hands slide around, touching and squeezing everything but the nipples. “Yeah, they’re definitely bigger.”

Shiro’s face is burning. It’s doing him in to see Keith like this, on his lap and groping at his tits like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. It makes Shiro need more with an all-encompassing intensity, he needs Keith to—

“Keith.”

“Yeah?” Once again Keith looks like he struggles to pull his eyes up to Shiro’s face.

“I need relief. The pressure, it—“ Shiro can’t say it better than that. The words, _I need you to milk me_ , are spinning around inside his head. He can barely breathe.

“Okay,” Keith says, “Okay I’ve got you.” And then he pinches one of Shiro’s nipples.

The reaction is instantaneous. Just like in the ship Shiro’s body reacts. The pleasure is sharp, but this time he doesn’t try to fight it. Keith curses and then his other hand is pinching the other.

It takes less than ten seconds for Shiro to come as Keith begins to pluck and squeeze at him. He doesn’t even have the mind to be embarrassed about his cock spurting untouched and all over his stomach.

“That’s it,” Keith says, “Let it out. Looks like it feels good princess. You came all over. Fuck. So fucking hot, and you’re still leaking should I—?”

“Don’t stop,” Shiro garbles out. His eyes are shut at the rolling pleasure, and he’s nearly tearing the bedsheets, but he’d do anything, anything to keep Keith’s hands on him.

“Yeah,” Keith’s voice is fractured, breathy, “You need it huh? Tits so full, gotta milk you, mm that’s it, just let me.”

Shiro whines and moans and writhes. He doesn’t come exactly, but the pleasure is pulsing and hot and he feels like he’s losing his fucking mind.

And then there’s something wet and hot enclosing one of his nipples.

Shiro’s eyes fly open just in time to see Keith, lips latched on him, give a soft suck.

“Ke— _ah_!” He feels the liquid flood Keith’s mouth and the relief is _absolute bliss_. Like nothing else. Shiro fists a hand into Keith’s hair and Keith hums, pleased.

It gets messier then. Keith’s so close that his face is smeared in liquid. His stomach is pressed to Shiro’s spill between them, spreading it as he shifts. He suckles at one of Shiro’s tits and tweaks the other, milking him slowly but surely. Shiro just… floats. It feels so good, it’s the relief he’s been needing for days now.

When Keith pulls back his lips are swollen and he looks fucking obscene. Shiro looks him down, stopping at the sight of Keith’s cock, hard and wet.

He wants that suddenly, wants it inside him. Wants Keith to fuck into him while he milks Shiro. He gets the words out in a frenzy of cut off sentences until Keith leans up and kisses him quiet.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, I’ll fuck you, anything you want baby.”

Shiro’s hands clutch at Keith and kiss him hard, tasting what Keith’s been lapping from his own tits. It’s sweet and earthy, and it does remind Shiro vaguely of the flower. The thought makes Shiro’s head spin, that Keith’s been sucking and swallowing and he still wants more—

They get the lube from beneath Keith’s pillow and the prepping is half hazard and urgent at best. It’s too fast but neither of them seem to be able to stop, they’re stuck in a loop, or maybe just in the influence of that aphrodisiac.

Either way Keith gets up to three fingers and then Shiro is begging him to _please, please fuck me._ Keith swears and hauls Shiro’s thighs up to get the angle.

“Shiro, are you—“

“Yes!” Shiro cuts him off, trying to grab at Keith and pull him in. The pressure in him has decreased somewhat, but Shiro feels more feral than ever to be consumed by Keith. He wants him _in_ him, _on_ him. He wants to be consumed, ruined. “Please, I’ve never wanted anything more, I need it, please, please,” Shiro babbles.

Then Keith is lined up and pushing in. Shiro cries out and Keith pushes more in, head tilting down to Shiro’s throat.

“Fuck, tight.”

“Good,” Shiro says. It’s all a blur of sensation, but all of it is _good, good, good_. “Fuck me.”

Keith grunts, pulling back just to fuck in again, harder and deeper. Still Shiro feels him holding back.

“Please,” Shiro begs. “Fuck me, breed me, m—milk—“

Keith growls and then he’s all the way in, to the hilt. His teeth are sharp against Shiro’s throat. He pulls back and rails back in, and Shiro screams.

It’s a feral descent into madness then. Keith starts fucking him hard and deep, and Shiro just holds on. All of his senses are overwrought and tangled and he reaches, blindly for his own chest to put him over.

There’s another growl, and then Keith is pulling his arms up over his head and pinning them down. “Mine!” Keith hisses and then bends and takes a nipple in mouth.

It’s catastrophic. At the first suck Shiro can’t manage the onslaught of pleasure. He comes, unexpected and still untouched. It pulses through him, ricocheting between where Keith is fucking him relentlessly and where Keith is suckling at the milk from his tits. Shiro’s voice is wrecked, but he moans through it, begs for Keith to keep going, to not stop.

He’s come but it’s not enough, the relief is not enough he’s still so, so full. Keith removes his hands pinning Shiro down, but Shiro keeps them there. Keith uses his hands then to paw at Shiro’s swollen tits, squeezing and forcing the milk out. It spills across Shiro’s skin, obscene and filthy as Keith fucks him.

Those dark eyes meet his as Keith bends once more to lap it up.

“ _Jesus Christ!”_

“You’ll come for me one more time, won’t you princess?” Keith’s grin is wild. He looks confident and in control even as his rhythm becomes more brutal and unhinged.

Shiro would do anything for him, especially now. “Yes!”

“Good,” Keith says, readjusting so he can fuck deep, so he can keep railing Shiro’s prostate. Behind the feeling of his tits it’s hard to even notice, but surely it’s adding to how Shiro’s cock is already perking up and ready for another round. “Gonna give it to you so good. Gonna suck you dry while I’m breeding you full of me. Make you _mine.”_

There’s nothing that Shiro’s ever wanted more. “Yes, yes!” He cries.

It builds then, faster and tighter and hotter. Keith doesn’t touch his nipples, but squeezes at his chest in eager anticipation. He’s panting and his eyes are a smolder as they watch Shiro disintegrating to ash. It’s so fucking hot he can barely stand it.

“Gonna— fuck—!”

Keith collapses down then, driving hard into Shiro’s hole and bringing his mouth back to one of Shiro’s nipples. There’s teeth, and a sharp pinch and twist of the other swollen bud, and Shiro just _loses it_.

He whites out with a scream of pleasure, feeling the heat and wetness and pulsing of his whole body as it tears him almost free of consciousness. From a distance Keith is swearing and pushing into his body and coming. All Shiro can focus on is the sharp bite and suck on his tit, the total relief of pressure as _something_ changes. The pleasure is like a wave, a complete experience. Nothing has ever felt as good.

When he comes back to himself it’s slowly, drowsily. Above him there’s Keith, eyes adoring. He looks well fucked, his lips are swollen.

“Hi,” Keith says. “How’re you feeling?”

For the first time in days Shiro actually feels… relief. He says so with a ruined throat.

“Good,” Keith says. Then his face goes stern. “But no more eating strange plants.”

Shiro grins up at him, a little moony himself now from four truly spectacular orgasms. “I thought it turned out rather well.”

Keith looks away for a second and then leans in to peck Shiro on the cheek. It’s surprisingly shy and sweet after… all that. Then Keith recovers, “You won’t be saying that when we have to update Pidge.”

This does make Shiro groan. “Must we?”

Keith nods. “Uh huh, we definitely need to know how long you’re going to be like this.” Keith gestures down at Shiro’s chest.

“Seemed like you liked it though.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Not the point Shiro!”

He tugs Keith back down into the very limited space on the cot. Easily Keith spoons up against him. “Okay,” Shiro concedes, “But first a shower. And some proper make outs. Maybe a long overdue love confession.”

At this Keith turns his head to meet Shiro’s eyes. They’re wide and hopeful.

“Long, long overdue,” Shiro says and pulls him in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Pidge gets a call back from Ryner about exactly what those flowers do, and that the effects will wear off in a few days. She patently bans both of them of ever speaking of this incident ever again. 
> 
> Thanks once again to @hemsbutt for this fun, fun request!
> 
> I'm @an_aphorism on twitter where I chaotic and filthy.


End file.
